


Untold Stories from Gilead

by eternal_night_owl



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Probably gonna add more as the story goes on, Sexual Assault, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-19 02:58:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternal_night_owl/pseuds/eternal_night_owl
Summary: Short snippets into the lives of the women of Gilead, from the highest ranking to the lowest.





	1. The Commander's Wife

Ceremony nights were always the worst.

 

As I felt my husband thrust himself inside the woman between my legs, our _handmaid_ , our marriage bed rocked back and forth. I looked forward, concentrating my gaze onto my husband in front of me.

 

 _I wonder if he knows what this does to me_ , I wondered to myself. He never seemed to feel sorry afterwards; in fact, most days he simply pretended I didn’t exist at all. Like always, he avoided making eye contact during the process, and concentrated on performing his duty.

 

What we were doing was an evil for sure, I never let myself forget about that, but even I’ll admit it’s a necessary evil. There was no greater blessing than to receive a child, and now this was the only way to do it.

 

Of course, back in the dark days before the fertility crisis reached its peak, the idea seemed beyond ridiculous. Sharing my husband with another woman so she could have his baby? It was unthinkable, sinful even.

 

 _“It’s the only way for us to conceive. This is what God wants,”_ he whispered in my ear, taking both of my hands into his. I fought him on it of course, but in the end I didn’t have a choice.

 

I once again examined my husband, carefully examining his furrowed brow to see if he dared betray any sign of pleasure. As always during ceremonies, his expression was unreadable.

 

Of course, he wasn’t the only one to worry about. I looked down at the handmaid, only to see her staring up at the ceiling fan with a blank expression. She looked to be in her late teens, early twenties at the oldest. I was never told her exact age and neither had I asked. When Aunt Sarah, the head Aunt at the Rachel and Leah center in town came to drop her off, she mentioned that it was the girl’s first posting.

 

 _“But she’s very obedient, I hardly ever hear a fuss from her,”_ she assured me. From the little time the girl had been part of the household, it was clear that the woman was true to her word. She spent most of the time in her room, only leaving for meals, shopping, and now her first ceremony. It was a relief, the girl knowing her place to be seen as little as possible.

 

Quiet sniffles interrupted my thoughts, and I looked down once again to see the girl’s cheeks shining with tears.

 

 _First Ceremonies are always the most difficult,_ Aunt Sarah warned before releasing the girl into my husband’s and my custody. _A bit of nervousness for all parties involved is to be expected. Be firm, but gentle and if there are any behavioral issues, let me know and I will take care of it._

 

I turned my gaze back to my husband once I felt his thrusts get faster and faster. Before I could process why, I looked down to see his hand cupping the girl’s breast. I smacked it away as hard as I could, and finally, _finally_ , he looked up at me. He at least had the grace to look guilty. Blood rushed to my face as I forced myself to swallow the anger and humiliation.

 

How could God approve of such an abomination! Sex is sacred, a private matter between a man and his wife and here we are, making a mockery of it! They must be having an affair in secret, why else would he act in such a way, unless the slut between us made him think that it would be acceptable?

 

I dug my fingernails into the girl’s arms, and just barely held back a smile when a trickle of blood, just as red as her dress, dripped down my fingers.

 

 _If I ever catch you alone with him,_ I thought to myself as the girl writhed in pain, _I’ll make you_ _wish I sent you back to Aunt Sarah._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, hi! This idea came to me a few weeks ago and I thought it would be interesting to explore the lives of the women in Gilead, especially women in positions we don't get as much information about. This is only the first chapter so let me know what you think!


	2. The Aunt

“Let me go, you bitch!” the newcomer screamed as I dragged her away from the desk. The young woman sharply elbowed me in the ribs, then slipped out of my grasp as I keeled over in pain. Before she could get far, Betty, the head Aunt in the Center hit the escapee with her cattle prod so hard she fell to the ground, bleeding from the temple. “Behavior like that will not be tolerated! Do you understand me?” When the girl didn’t respond, she shocked her on her side causing her to cry out in pain.

 

“Get up,” she nudged her with the edge of her steel toed boot. When the girl simply groaned in response, she kicked her harder. “I said get up!”

 

Holding her bleeding head, the girl shakily stood up, looking back towards the group of terrified handmaids watching the scene. “You’re coming with us,” she grabbed the girl’s arm, and nodded at me to follow. 

 

As we walked away from the handmaids’ education room, I eyed Betty as she dragged the poor girl by her hair.  _ Has she really changed so quickly, or was this always her goal?  _

 

When they first met, back in the Dark era, Betty was a true friend and a blessing to have after lost everything else good in my life had been lost. She listened, and actually empathized, unlike everyone else who smiled to my face and snickered behind my back. 

 

We arrived in what used to be a classroom, though it’s purpose was quite different now. Brownish-red stains littered the carpet and white walls, and a shelf that used to be used for books and spare pencils now stored knives and whips. The smell was awful and I just barely managed to avoid covering my nose.

 

Betty and I strapped the young woman on the gurney in the middle of the room, all the while trying to avoid a kick to the stomach.

 

“Shut up and stay still!” Betty yelled, slapping her across the face once she had enough. After checking that she was securely in, she walked over to where the torture devices were kept. A few seconds later she came back, a sharp knife in her hand the size of half her arm.

 

“Annie dear, you really need to learn your place. Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be given such an opportunity?” she lifted the knife up, letting the light reflect off of it. “You could be off cleaning up toxic waste, or picking up rotting bodies in the colonies. At least here, you have food, water and will be taken care of. It’s more than you deserve.”

 

“G-Go fuck yourself,” she spit out, though the fear in her eyes was apparent. She eyed the knife as though it was the last thing she’d ever see. Her stutters turned to screams as Betty stabbed her in the leg.

 

 “Remember dear, blessed are the meek. I do hate punishing you girls but you keep leaving me no choice.” She grabbed a tissue to wipe the blood off the knife then handed it to me.

 

“But we aren’t here today because of your insolence to me, it’s my dear friend here who you assaulted. So therefore, it’s only fitting that she be the one to deliver your punishment.” She looked back at me, gesturing towards the bleeding girl in front of us. “Go on, I’d suggest removing a hand but her tongue could do just as well.”

 

I stood there frozen, looking back and forth at my victim and former best friend. “Perhaps… we can let her off with a warning this time?” I asked hopefully. “It is only her first day after all.”

 

Betty gave me an understanding smile, the same she used to give when I talked about my husband and daughter, and put her arm around me. She gestured me towards the other end of the room.  “I know this is new, to all of us, but you can’t be too soft with these girls. They’re sinners, and they’ll do anything they can to undermine what we fought so hard to achieve. In order to show them what they must do, we need to be firm.”

 

“We can do that without cutting their limbs off.”

 

Betty sighed. “Sometimes you make me question who’s side you’re on. Don’t you remember what it was like before? When your baby died when she was just a few days old and your husband left you? That happened because we were living in a broken world, and God saw it fit to punish us for it. We can still make things right, bring more healthy babies into the world and earn our place back into God’s grace. But, in order to do so,” she gestured toward the girl filling the gurney with blood, “we must make sacrifices.”

 

I gulped, as I looked at my victim. She seemed as thought she was about to pass out.

 

_ Good _ , I thought.  _ I hope she doesn’t feel this. _

 

I reached out and took her hand as she watched me with half-closed eyes. 

 

“Don’t,” she mumbled out a weak protest. “Please.”

 

“Do it for your little girl, your Emma,” Betty whispered. 

 

A sharp scream rang in my ears, and then nothing but cold, dead silence.


End file.
